


Five Things (More or Less) That Ray Kowalski is Not Telling Ray Vecchio

by travels_in_time



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-09
Updated: 2010-10-09
Packaged: 2017-10-12 13:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/125355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/travels_in_time/pseuds/travels_in_time





	Five Things (More or Less) That Ray Kowalski is Not Telling Ray Vecchio

1.

Ray is not telling Vecchio he's sorry for punching him right in the face, in the middle of the bullpen, on Vecchio's first day back.

Well, technically he is, his mouth is moving and he's saying the words, but only because Welsh is parked in his doorway glaring and Ray knows what'll happen if he doesn't. He's making sure that his body language is giving out his real message loud and clear, though, so that even a blind man could read it.

It's not even Ray's _fault_. It's all Vecchio's, coming in cocky and smirking, that "I-screwed-your-wife-and-then-I-left-her" grin firmly in place. Talking to Ray like he's a total idiot. Calling him "Stanley" over and over after Ray'd asked him politely--well, asked him, anyway--to stop. It was when Vecchio called him Stanley for the third time that Ray'd lost it.

Well, maybe it was the _way_ he said it. The way he'd said, "So, Stanley, I see it didn't work out with Benny. You know, I could've told you he's not into blondes."

Yeah, that was probably it.

Ray sneaks away as soon as possible and calls Stella, who says she's fine and that she and Vecchio parted friends, so Ray doesn't have to beat him up (she's joking, and Ray maybe leaves out the part where he already did). But Vecchio's still an arrogant son-of-a-bitch and he had no business talking about Fraser like that. So Welsh says they're going to work together and they'd better learn to get along, but that doesn't mean that Ray's sorry he hit him, and he's not going to pretend that he is.

*****************

b.

The thing about working with Vecchio is that he _doesn't shut up_. Ray's used to being the one who talks a lot, although Fraser used to give him a run for his money, but he doesn't have a whole lot he wants to say to Vecchio, so he mostly keeps quiet.

And as long as Vecchio's talking about cases, that seems to suit him fine. When they run out of leads to discuss, though, he starts talking about the Quest. He's full of questions about the conditions, the route, the dogs, the food. And Ray knows from Fraser that Vecchio is not what you call an outdoors kind of guy, so he can't figure out what Vecchio's angle is on all this. He figures it's just Vecchio's way of poking around in his business, trying to find out more about him and Fraser, and he resents it. He mostly just grunts and, when Vecchio presses for stories, tells him all the dumb boring parts. There was snow. It was really cold.

He doesn't tell Vecchio how proud he was of himself when he could hitch up the dogs and set up the tent and cook the supper by himself, and the way he felt when Fraser smiled congratulations at him. He doesn't say that by the end of the trail he could identify forty-seven different kinds of snow and he never wanted to see any of them again, but he'd have gladly learned forty-seven more if Fraser'd asked him to stay.

In an attempt to discourage Vecchio from any more questions, Ray does tell him how one of the dogs got caught in a trap that some poacher'd forgotten, and how the whole pack had gone crazy from the noise she'd made trying to free herself, and how she'd torn herself up so badly before they could get to her that Fraser'd had to put her down, and Ray had--

No, on second thought that's a dumb story too, and Vecchio definitely doesn't need to hear the end of it.

There's a lot that Vecchio doesn't need to hear. Like how much Ray misses Fraser, how the ache is literally physical, how he sometimes doesn't even see Vecchio because he's looking past him for a glimpse of red. Ray had hugged Fraser goodbye at the airport and walked away without looking back, and he'd been fiercely glad that he hadn't said anything, that he hadn't asked for what Fraser obviously couldn't give him, that they were still friends. But every time he looks up and Fraser's not there, it hurts.

But with all the questions, the one thing Vecchio doesn't ask is if Ray misses Fraser, and Ray's sure as hell not telling him.

***************

Third.

It takes Ray a good long while--after questions about the Adventure have somehow morphed into arguments about sports--to figure out that maybe Vecchio wasn't really trying to pry. They don't talk about Stella, and Fraser's more or less off-limits too, so that was maybe the only conversation starter Vecchio could think of.

It's hard for Ray to remember that Vecchio still doesn't know much about him, when he knows Vecchio inside out, or at least it feels that way. Not only from spending time with Frannie and, to a lesser extent, the rest of the family, but from studying up on Vecchio's old files.

Ray's spent a lot of time undercover, and he's spent a lot of time watching cops. Vecchio's files had a pattern that Ray could spot without even trying, because he'd seen it so many times.

New cop starts out all shiny and bright and hoping to change the world. Dedicated to duty, pulling the late shifts, crossing every "i" and dotting every "t".

And then reality starts setting in, and he realizes that for every crook that he arrests, there are five or ten more that got away, and even the ones that he does get will be out on bail in a few hours, and assuming they show back up in court instead of disappearing across state lines, the judge is liable to do a favor for some alderman's nephew's son and slap the sucker with community service or something equally meaningless. And while the cops are out there getting shot at so that justice can be served, if that's what you want to call it, the bad guys are riding around in fancy cars and eating at the best restaurants and buying all the really expensive politicians.

So the cop backs off. Doesn't risk his neck quite as much, calculates his angles, finds out which arrests will be likely to stick before he bothers making them. A lot of cops did it, and Vecchio was no exception. He'd gotten a little sloppy, a little lazy, looking more for the cases that would get him some recognition, letting the little stuff slide. Looking the other way on the cases that seemed likely to cause trouble.

Ray hadn't spotted anything actually criminal between the lines of Vecchio's files. Vecchio was never a bad guy. But there was a definite change after Fraser showed up, a sense that Vecchio was paying more attention to things getting done right, and even if it was Fraser prompting it, it was Vecchio's name on the paperwork and Vecchio taking the rap when things heated up.

Ray figures that Vecchio really wouldn't appreciate Ray knowing all this stuff about his past, so he keeps quiet about it.

Besides, it really doesn't seem important now. At some point Vecchio turned into a guy who could walk away from his family, his friends, his whole life, for the sake of justice. And maybe it was Fraser, maybe it was Vegas, but either way there's nothing left of the guy Ray saw in his old files. This Vecchio doesn't let go, he doesn't back off, he won't be threatened. Welsh dutifully passes along the warnings from the brass when Vecchio's stepping on important toes, and then he goes to the wall for him when Vecchio ignores the politics and the excrement, as Fraser might have said, hits the air recirculator.

Ray watches him, and thinks about Stella, fierce and uncompromising, and Fraser, honorable and virtuous. Both of them, in their own ways, dedicated to bringing lawbreakers to justice. And Ray thinks about patterns, and flames, and moths.

****************

IV.

No, he is damn well _not_ going to thank Vecchio, and he tells him so in no uncertain terms.

"I just saved your sorry ass. Would it kill you to say something nice?" And Vecchio is laughing, because he's an _idiot_ , and he thinks this is _funny_ , that Ray's terror and fear and incoherent fury are _funny_. He could have been killed, and Ray hadn't been quick enough to protect him, and Vecchio is _laughing_ about it. Like hell Ray's going to thank him for nearly getting himself blown away.

"Hey." Vecchio's tone changes, his eyes widen a little as he finally seems to see Ray. "Hey, you really--are you okay?"

And Ray just stares at him, caught, unable to look away, even when understanding finally lights Vecchio's eyes. No. No, he's not okay. He is _so_ screwed.

*****************

Last.

Ray never asks Vecchio to stay over, or tells him to make himself at home, or anything cheesy like that, because Vecchio doesn't seem to need the invitation. He follows Ray home as a matter of course, talking nonstop all the way, or he shows up with a bottle of wine and enough food to feed an army, because Ma Vecchio is apparently trying to end the world hunger problem single-handedly and charity begins at home, or something.

Vecchio's always there when Ray wants him, and if Ray wakes up in the middle of the night in a bed that's a little colder and a lot emptier than it was when he passed out, well, Vecchio's a grown man and he can sleep where he wants. And apparently what he wants is his own bed, and his own shower, and his own nice wardrobe with actual matching ties and shoes and crap to wake up to every day.

Ray has an extra key to his apartment made, but he never gets around to giving it to Vecchio. Vecchio's never there unless Ray is, so what's the point? If Vecchio decides to show up, he'll just bang on the door, like he's doing right now while Ray is trying to sleep through a curling match.

Ray goes to the door yawning. Vecchio was having dinner with his family tonight, and Ray hadn't expected that he'd be by, but nobody else hammers on Ray's door like there's a three-alarm fire. Ray opens the door and stands back, but Vecchio doesn't come in. He just sort of...hovers, there in the hall, and Ray starts to get a bad feeling.

"Did I wake you up? Sorry. Look, Benny called." It's too abrupt; whatever it is that he's about to tell Ray, he doesn't think Ray will like it. "He's engaged. That girl he's been dating, the one that runs the hotel. He's--they're getting married."

Ray stares at him. The words are taking their own time to sink in to his sleep-fuzzed brain. Vecchio is waiting, watching him; in the crappy fluorescent lights from the hallway, his face is in shadow, almost bruised-looking.

The illusion stirs Ray's memories, throws up things from the past. "I'm sorry."

Vecchio gives him a look of incomprehension, and he thinks maybe that needs clarifying. "For hitting you."

"What, that first day?" Vecchio gives a half-laugh. "I knew that was coming. Over Stella, I figured. Thought I might as well get it over with." He shrugs. "I was kinda surprised when you blew up about Benny instead." The grin drops off his face. "Hey, about Benny. Look, I know..." Then he trails off, and sighs. "They're coming down for Christmas. He wants us to meet his girlfriend, you know, introduce her to his crazy American buddies."

Vecchio seems to be waiting for some kind of response on Ray's part. He should know better. Ray doesn't wake up easily. But he wouldn't know, would he? He's never there when Ray wakes up. "Okay, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come by just to dump all this on you. I just thought you should hear it now before you hear it all over the bullpen."

"No." Ray is blinking at him, trying to process through all this. Fraser, engaged. How should he feel about that? How does he feel? "No, it's good. He needs somebody." He doesn't realize until he says it that it's true. Fraser's good. Ray's good. They're all good.

"Yeah." Vecchio gives him a sardonic glance, and then looks back down the hall. "I better get going." He pauses and looks back at Ray. "You sure you're okay?"

In his eyes, Ray sees all the echoes of all the things he hasn't been saying. He swallows, his throat suddenly dry. Maybe everything's not good. And maybe that's his own damn fault. "Hey. Um, Fraser's gonna need somewhere to stay, right, him and his girlfriend? Why don't you let 'em stay at your place, and you, uh, you stay here?"

Vecchio is staring at him. "Kowalski, I knew this deal with Benny was gonna throw you off, but--"

"No, no, no." Ray runs his hands through his hair in frustration, because of course Vecchio's going to think that. Could his timing be any worse? "It's not that. I just suck." He reaches out, pulls Vecchio into the apartment and over to the junk drawer in the kitchen, fumbling through it. "Look. I made you a key, it's here somewhere. I just--you never said anything--okay, that's my fault, it's my apartment and I never said anything, so I'm sorry, but you never _stay_ , and I didn't know--I dunno, maybe you just hate my place or something, and maybe we could get a better one if you--"

Vecchio reaches past Ray and nabs the key unerringly, pulling it out of the litter of paper and pens and screws and unidentifiable pieces of metal and plastic. "Hey. Breathe, Kowalski." But he's smiling, and that's good, right? He's putting the key in his pocket, and he's smiling. "I'll stay."

And then he's kissing Ray, and that's very good, that is _greatness_ , and suddenly Ray doesn't need to say anything at all.


End file.
